


affliction of feeling

by theformerone



Series: variation on a theme [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Body Worship (but not how you think), Established Relationship, F/F, Female Ejaculation, Femdom, Light BDSM, PWP, Praise Kink, Sakura is a Top, Spanking, Strength Kink, Vaginal Fingering, brief mentions of past child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 06:25:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15528108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theformerone/pseuds/theformerone
Summary: The firm weight of Sakura's palm against her ass steadies Hinata, grounds her back in her body. She lets out a soft huff of breath against the sheets beneath her and closes her eyes.It isn't a punishment.





	affliction of feeling

Hinata has this  _thing_ about being in control. Namely, she fucking hates it. 

Hiashi did a number on his firstborn. That much she can admit now. In certain contexts, asking her to make a decision will send her into a full blown panic attack, the likes of which her elders had tried to beat out of her when she was a child. It's why she was relieved when Hanabi was finally chosen as clan heir, why she damn near begged her sister to name Neji her own heir when the time came. 

On a mission, she's fine. As a shinobi, she's always sure of her choices in battle. But as a person - As a citizen, she - 

She just can't do it. She gets flustered ordering food, or telling vendors at the street markets how many grams of this she needs, or how many dozen of that. Her words choke her, and she fumbles at the lip. Being off duty is so much more difficult than being a weapon.

Hinata can bark out orders at a team if she has to, because she has lives in her hands. But when eleven year old Hinata couldn't decide what flavor of mochi she wanted, she was barked at. Shouted over. Silenced. She can't ask for what she wants but she can demand respect. And so the domestic became difficult, while killing stayed easy. Kurenai had been a great teacher; Hiashi had been a garbage father. 

It's so  _hard_ to feel grounded after grocery shopping. 

So when she gets home, it's with trembling fingers that she manages to put away the groceries. She gets the frozen items in the freezer, and everything else that can handle sitting on the counter stays there. 

She disarms herself, walking with too quick feet into the bedroom. She shrugs out of her jacket and shimmies her pants off of her hips. She folds her clothes tidily, leaving them at the foot of the bed, and then she sits there and waits. She keeps her back to the door so Sakura will know when she gets home. 

Hinata is too wired to fall asleep while she waits. As it is, it only takes five hours for Sakura to get back. And in that time, Hinata stays as keyed up as she had been when she was trying to remember how to tell if a melon was just right or overripe. A nice old man had sauntered up to help her and though his advice was sound, he leered at her breasts. How conveniently they ignored her hitai-ate just above them. 

She stiffens when she hears Sakura's soft, "I'm home," from the front. Listens for the sound of Sakura's keys hitting the little bowl they leave by the door, for her shoes to come off, then her jacket to get thrown onto the couch. Hinata is the tidy one, compulsively so. Sakura's picked up more habits from Naruto than she likes to let on. 

By the time Sakura gets to their bedroom, Hinata feels like she's vibrating out of her skin. She can't stop thinking about the man who gawked at her chest and the melon that's still on the counter, and whether or not the strawberry mochi ice cream in the freezer was the right flavor, or hadn't Sakura mentioned that she really liked the chocolate kind now?

Hinata thinks to lurch to her feet, to get to the freezer and rifle through the grocery bags on the counter for the receipt when Sakura's hand comes down onto her shoulder and gives it a sharp squeeze. Hinata nearly melts out of her skin. Sakura's callouses are familiar to her. The thick skin, the knots of little and big scars, the odd bumps where her fingers were broken time and time again; Hinata knows them all. It settles the panicking thing inside of her like a drop of water to someone thirsty; a tease, a promise, something to moor her but not enough to bring her home. 

"Tell me what you need."

Sakura's voice is gentle, soothing in a way Hiashi's never was. Hinata turns her head, dips her cheek so she can nuzzle the top of Sakura's hand. 

"If you don't tell me," Sakura continues, lifting her fingers to rub them against Hinata's cheek, "I can't help you."

Hinata shudders into the soothing touch. They had words for everything, code phrases for when Hinata couldn't parse out the words exactly. 'Holding' was one thing, 'grounding' was another. 

"Tether me," Hinata whispers. The words come out without a stammer, without a pause. She presses her lips to Sakura's fingertips and her eyes flutter shut. 

When she couldn't handle a spar, or felt too jittery for a mission, there was always this. This and sex.

Sakura sighs a little and drops her fingers away from Hinata's cheek. She turns and sits on the edge of the bed. She spreads her legs and Hinata can already see the little bench they make, and where she is supposed to fit on them. 

"What do we say?" 

Hinata bites her lip, annoyed that she's forgotten herself. 

"Please," she says, and Sakura gives her an indulgent smile. She crooks a finger and beckons Hinata forward. 

She's been sitting so long, perched and waiting, that when she stands, her feet feel like they're made of lead. She pitches forward but Sakura catches her, bundles Hinata up in her arms and holds her there. 

Hinata buries her face in Sakura's throat, breathing in her jasmine and antiseptic smell, all flowers and rubbing alcohol. It's another drop on the thirsty man's tongue, and Hinata is tempted. She opens her mouth against Sakura's throat, drags her tongue against it, moaning a little as she does. 

Sakura huffs out a laugh, and the sound is a balm. Hinata can do some things right, can't she? And Sakura's laugh is proof. Even if she can't tell which melon is ripe or remember if she should have bought strawberry or chocolate, she can do this.

"Did you change your mind?" Sakura muses, and Hinata can hear the smile on her face. She shakes her head minutely and presses a little kiss to the curve of Sakura's throat before she arranges herself on her lap. 

She lays her belly half on Sakura's thighs and half on the bed and folds her forearms beneath her forehead. Hinata sucks in a few slow breaths, trying to steady herself. She tries to keep herself still, but finds that there is still a fine tremor running through her as she waits. It thrums in her knees, in her arms where they rest beneath her head, and feeling it makes her breath begin to stutter, and she worries that she won't be able to keep still and - 

The firm weight of Sakura's palm against her ass steadies Hinata, grounds her back in her body. She can feel herself come back to herself, feels her tremors die as Sakura rubs her thumb along the line of Hinata's underwear. Sakura says nothing, just runs her thumb along the seam of Hinata's panties until she's totally still under Sakura's hand. It happens in increments, until Hinata's heart stops thundering in her ears, and she settles into not wanting to be anywhere else but here. She lets out a soft huff of breath against the sheets beneath her and closes her eyes.

It isn't a punishment.

In the space between Sakura's hand leaving her ass and coming back down, Hinata cants her hips just a little bit upward. 

The first smack is a burst of stinging sensation across Hinata's right cheek and it lights her up, makes her arch her back and press her ass higher to chase Sakura's hand. Her mouth opens in a soft 'ah' as the initial sting starts to fade and she wants  _more_ of it. 

"Don't be greedy," Sakura murmurs, clucking her tongue. She puts her own forearm down on Hinata's back in warning, and Hinata goes still immediately. It isn't a threat, no, but a terribly good promise. 

Hinata nods, doesn't bother apologizing with words. Sakura rarely takes them, will usually only smooth Hinata's hair out of her eyes, and kiss her forehead. As it is, Sakura splays her fingers out on Hinata's back and rubs a slow circle on Hinata's left cheek, warming where her palm will strike next. 

"Good girl," Sakura says, and Hinata squirms. 

Then the palm leaves her ass and comes back down again, this time, punching a shout from between Hinata's lips. Sakura doesn't bother soothing her this time. The strikes press on, open palmed and hot, and Hinata keeps count, tracks each and every one of them and the way they send heat up her spine and down her legs. She counts; five on the left, five on the right, then six on the right and seven on the left. 

The world around her melts into heat and the sound of her own breathing. She pants, open mouthed, and a thin line of drool curls out of the corner of her mouth, wetting the sheets beneath her cheek. She presses her hips up higher, higher, outside of herself but chasing sensation, and it isn't until Sakura's hand comes down just a touch too low that Hinata has to bite down on a scream. 

Sakura leaves her hand there, just against the lips of Hinata's covered pussy, where the sting of the smack leveled there makes Hinata want to press back into Sakura's palm. Hinata whimpers, bunching one hand around her own wrist and the other into the bedsheet beneath it. 

"Odd or even?" Sakura asks. And her voice is so level considering how close Hinata is to falling apart. She wants that sting again, another sharp slap to her cunt. She had drifted out of her body in the good way as Sakura's palm came against her, and now she was back inside of herself and itching for more. 

"Odd," she whispers. "Please, odd."

She liked the little limp it always gave her. She was a kunoichi and better at hiding her own pain than most, but Hinata liked to favor one side over the other. It brought her back to the clarity when she was stressed or panicking, the little bit of discomfort. It brought her back to Sakura's hands or her mouth or her strength. It tethered her. 

Sakura hums, and her palm comes down with a resounding  _thwap_ on her left cheek that leaves Hinata keening. She tries to wiggle up to get more, but Sakura puts her own weight into her arm on Hinata's back. Hinata protests, a little mewl of discontent rising from her throat before she can stop it. 

"Come on, Hinata," Sakura says, her voice low and soothing. "Be good for me. I know you want to. I know you can."

Hinata can smell her own arousal, can smell Sakura's just beneath Hinata's stomach. She knows that when she's good, when she's  _perfect_ this ends with her eating Sakura out, and she's allowed to take as much time as she wants, and looking forward to that is enough to make Hinata calm down. 

"Good girl," Sakura purrs, and Hinata's composure only lasts until another slap comes down hard on her left cheek, and she's thrumming again, moaning wetly when a third strike comes down hard, perilously close to the dark cloth covering Hinata's pussy. 

"So good," Sakura murmurs, and Hinata tries to count backwards; she just had three on the left, so that's ten on the left and six on the right and she's trying to form words in her throat to beg for more when Sakura's forearm leaves her back. 

"Don't move," she says, and Hinata doesn't, because she knows what's coming next. Knowing doesn't stop her from gasping when Sakura's fingers rub slowly, surely at the wet spot on Hinata's underwear. 

" _Mmmh_ ," is the only sound she can get out after she's pressed her lips together, and she has to fight herself to keep from squirming, from moving even a little bit when Sakura tugs her underwear to the side, and exposes her to the warm air of their bedroom. 

The first finger slides in like nothing and it's not enough but Hinata doesn't have the words to say it right now so she pants, sucks in a breath that nearly sounds like a shriek, but she doesn't move, no, because Sakura told her to be still. She draws herself taut as a bowstring, holds herself as tightly as she can. 

Sakura presses in two fingers and it's obscene how easy it is, how Hinata's pussy is already open enough to take them. She hears Sakura let out a shuddery breath and Hinata glows with it. 

"So pretty," Sakura murmurs, working her two fingers in and out, hooking them forward and dragging along the plush heat of Hinata's inner walls. She adds a third finger and Hinata takes a chance when she spreads her legs a touch so Sakura can press in deeper. She doesn't get chastised; Sakura hums her approval, slows her pace until Hinata _aches_ to rock back onto Sakura's fingers, to feel her knuckles catch against her rim. "So wet for it, so open, so  _perfect_." 

The slap that comes down on Hinata's ass almost makes her scream. Pain glitters across her senses, catching itself in the easy slide of Sakura's fingers fucking slow and deep into her cunt, and Hinata whimpers for it. 

"Go on," Sakura says. "Let me hear how much you want it."

Hinata loses herself from there. Sakura's palm comes down on her in sharp, staccato strikes, and her fingers curve and press hard, deep inside of her, and it's all that Hinata can do to hold on. She's so abruptly aware of her entire body; of the sweat on her back, of the flush of her skin, where there will hopefully something like a little welt on her ass tomorrow, her bangs sticking to her forehead. She can feel Sakura's strong thighs beneath her, the way her belly expands against Hinata's side as she breathes, how Sakura's own breath has gone a little bit more ragged as Hinata comes undone and back together again under her touch. 

She knows exactly where she is, and exactly where she's supposed to be. 

Sakura's fingers curve and catch and Hinata comes around her fingers, her pussy closing down hard, fluttering, holding, spilling, and Hinata comes, white and hot and endless around Sakura's fingers, and down her wrist, and Hinata shudders. 

She feels like a livewire when Sakura takes her fingers out of her, feels her pussy suck at Sakura's fingers as they go. It pulls a little sob out of her, but Sakura makes soothing sounds, murmuring nonsense as she pulls Hinata off of her lap and settles her onto the bed. 

Sakura looks down at her while Hinata catches her breath, lifting her clean hand to gently touch Hinata's cheek. 

"Better now?" Sakura asks. "Are you with me?"

Hinata nods, manages to get out a raspy, "Uh-huh," before Sakura leans down and brushes their lips together. "Thank you," Hinata adds, tacking it on. 

Sakura smiles at her, her face open and kind, before she lifts her fingertips, coated in Hinata's cum to Hinata's still open mouth. Hinata hums her approval; she's never more at home in her own body than when her mouth is full of herself.

"Good," Sakura says, "because you're not quite finished yet."

Hinata opens her mouth and sucks Sakura's fingers between her lips while Sakura watches, tasting and tethering herself.

**Author's Note:**

> more feely than i was anticipating, but i like it anyway. might do more spanking w/ hinata just because the idea's been in my head for months. c'est la vie. y'all would be shocked by the sheer lack of fic in the female ejaculation/squirting tag. it's ridiculous, in my humble opinion. i'm gonna fix that.
> 
> who else ya got?


End file.
